


Every inch of your skin

by AndalusianSunshine



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Day 3, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt:La Roja, Semi-Public Sex, Spanish National Team, serardweek2k18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 16:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14000145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndalusianSunshine/pseuds/AndalusianSunshine
Summary: When La Roja takes off their clothes for a charity photoshoot, Sergio gets more than he bargained for.





	Every inch of your skin

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from _Love me like you do_ by Ellie Goulding

Sergio tries to rub some warmth back into his slowly numbing fingers as he glances down the row of his scantily clad teammates. It’s a nice spring day, the sun shining brightly above them, but it’s still maybe a little too cold to be standing around outside barely dressed. 

The grass of the pitch prickles against his bare feet as he absentmindedly rubs at one of the white lines with his toes, only barely listening to the photographer’s instructions.

There had been a team talk earlier, a lengthy presentation filled with pretty pictures and fancy diagrams informing them why exactly it was a good idea to have them pose in nothing but spain-colored underwear, but he doesn’t remember any of it.

A warm hand rubbing up and down his biceps startles him out of his thoughts and when he turns his head he finds Piqué standing behind him, decidedly too close, their faces only inches apart.

“What are you doing?” he hisses, trying to squirm away, but Gerard keeps pawing at him.

“They covered you in way too much oil,” he explains quietly.

“What do you care?” Sergio’s voice is treacherously breathless, both of Gerard’s hands now rubbing at his slippery skin, effectively bracketing him between his arms and he’s acutely aware of the heat radiating off of Gerard’s chest.

“Can’t have you looking like an eel. It would ruin the whole picture,” Gerard chuckles and moves upwards to his shoulders, almost making Sergio giggle when he accidentally grazes the ticklish skin underneath his arms. “It was bad enough the last time.”

It takes a moment until his brain catches up, a disbelieving laugh bubbling from deep within him when he remembers. “That was almost fifteen years ago,” he grins. “Should i be flattered that you still remember?”

“God no, that was traumatizing,” the sharp dig of Gerard’s thumbs into his neck is surely meant as punishment, but Sergio barely manages to suppress a moan at how good it feels.

“Don’t you think that’s enough now,” he chokes out, desperate to get away from Gerard’s questing hands before he can get any more obvious.

“You’ll thank me later,” Gerard mutters, his fingers continuing upwards to rub at Sergio’s shoulder blades.

Sergio hums noncommittally. He’s not entirely sure about that, not when Gerard’s hands are doing some very unwanted things to his body.

He bites down on his bottom lip when Gerard’s hands slowly travel down his back, pressing and squeezing, rubbing the excess oil into his skin and Sergio desperately tries to keep his body from reacting, to keep his blood from rushing south and and his dick to stay soft, but he’s fighting a losing battle. 

When Gerard’s touch suddenly turns gentle, fingertips fluttering along the bumps of his spine, his knees almost buckle and he feels himself swell against the soft cotton of his underwear.

Gerard, however doesn’t seem to notice any of it. He wipes his slippery hands on the back of Sergio’s thighs, precariously close to the crease of his ass before he goes back in, now scrubbing at the small of his back and Sergio is caught somewhere between wanting the sweet torture to go on forever and someone to save him, but they’re all the way in the back and none of their teammates seem to be paying any attention to them.

He breathes a temporary sigh of relief, when Gerard steps back to inspect his work, but it’s painfully short lived, Gerard’s hands suddenly landing on his hips, his grip firm as he spins him around. Their gazes meet and Sergio is convinced his eyes are revealing entirely too much.

“Did they pour the whole bottle over you?” Gerard muses with a twinkle in his eyes and Sergio wants to retort but every sound gets stuck in his throat when Gerard’s fingers dip into the hollow of his throat. “This is insane. You’re drenched,” he shakes his head lightly, fingers digging deeper to gather up as much liquid as possible.

Sergio bites back a whimper.

Gerard’s hands travel down his chest, nails scraping over one of his nipples and sending a sharp tingle down his spine and Sergio isn’t entirely convinced that it was purely accidental. He’s helpless to prevent his eyelids from fluttering closed, to hold back the soft grunt spilling from his mouth. His dick twitches appreciatively.

It feels like forever until Gerard finally finishes wiping down his stomach and when he steps back with a proud smile, Sergio’s dick is achingly hard, throbbing and begging for attention.

“Much better,” Gerard declares and there’s no way Sergio can hide the state of his arousal from his attentive gaze. But Gerard doesn’t say anything, only raises an eyebrow in question, the corners of his mouth curling into a teasing smirk as he moves away from Sergio and into position for the team picture.

 

Somehow he manages to get through the first part of the shoot unscathed, mostly by staying in the back and hiding behind his teammates. He’s still straining against his underwear and no thought, no matter how unpleasant is helping to alleviate his problem. The goosebumps all across his skin certainly not from the cold anymore, the ghost touch of Gerard’s hands still lingering on his tattoos.

But he’s fine until the photographer calls for them to take off their underwear and he had almost forgotten about that part of the photoshoot, the one where they are supposed to get naked and pose with the World Cup trophy. Something that hadn’t seemed like much of a problem before Gerard’s treacherous hands had worked his body into a frenzy.

He angles himself away from the group, fingers tugged into the waistband of his underwear but only reluctantly pushing them off.

Half the team is already in position for the next picture and he knows he can’t stall forever, but then Gerard appears by his side and one downward flick of his eyes and he has figured him out.

“Still?” he mouths and Sergio only shrugs helplessly, pushing his underwear a little further down his hips, but Gerard knocks his hand away and yanks the fabric back up. “You can’t..,” he groans, stares down at him hungrily. “Not like this,” and before Sergio’s lust addled brain has any chance of catching up, Gerard has a hand wrapped around his wrist.

“We’re gonna need a minute,” he announces to no one in particular, the determined glint in his eyes daring anyone to object as he drags Sergio off the field and towards the dressing room.

Sergio spares a fleeting thought on how this might look to the rest of the team, but it vanishes from his mind almost instantly, the feel of Gerard’s fingers digging into his wrist far too distracting.

 

Barely away from prying eyes, Gerard’s hand drops from his wrist to his ass, roughly palming the firm flesh.

Sergio stumbles in surprise. “What are you doing?” he asks hoarsely.

“Helping you out with your little problem,” Gerard smirks and shoves him into the dressing room, his hand burning hot on Sergio’s naked skin. A thumbs slips under his waistband, teasing along the tender skin below his hip bone and Sergio shivers.

Gerard manhandles him towards the table in the middle of the room, lifting him up onto the smooth surface like he weighs nothing and it really shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. He rubs at himself through the flimsy cotton, desperate for any kind of friction, unable to wait for even a second longer. 

Gerard scrutinizes him thoroughly, eyes raking across his body, from head to toe, a teasing smirk on his lips and Sergio almost expects him to crack a dumb joke but instead his gaze darkens, taking on a hungry glint as it settles on the damp spot already forming on the front of Sergio’s briefs.

“Let me,” Gerard steps closer, presses up against his thigh and pushes his hand away, a predatory glint in his eyes and Sergio can feel himself starting to drip.

“Up,” he commands roughly, sliding his underwear off as soon as Sergio lifts up. He lets it drop carelessly on the floor and then his hand is finally around Sergio’s dick and Sergio can’t hold back the broken, desperate moan as his legs fall open.

“Please,” he whimpers, bucking into Gerard’s slow strokes as best as he can manage without falling off the table.

Gerard laughs softly, his eyes casting down just as Sergio’s draw up and their gazes lock purely by accident, but neither of them able to look away again as Gerard’s hand grows more insistent, the small amount of residual oil on his fingers enough to help along the friction. He strokes him like this for a while, the loose touch feeling heavenly against his aching flesh but it’s not nearly enough to bring him any closer to release.

“Make it tighter,” he begs, already feeling himself begin to unravel, his dick throbbing in the unrelenting hold of Gerard’s palm, his grip suddenly airtight and suffocating and nothing short of perfection.

“Oh God,” his hips surge upwards and it’s almost too much, the way Gerard is working him now, stroking him from root to tip with almost painfully tight movements.

He slumps forward with a groan, face buried against Gerard’s chest as he gives himself over to the slick slide of the other’s hand, the oil and his precum enough to easy the slide as Gerard’s hand speeds up.

And he doesn’t even try to keep the noises in, his moans suddenly turning low and guttural when Gerard’s other hand comes up to fondle his balls and it doesn’t take long until he erupts all over Gerard’s fist with a choked back cry.

It takes him a while to get his breathing back to normal and his body to stop shivering and when he looks up at Gerard, there’s a soft smile on his lips.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, a little sheepish now that the arousal has finally cleared from his mind and he’s fully aware of what they just did.

“Any time,” Gerard smirks and grabs a towel to wipe Sergio’s cum off his fingers. “Here,” he tosses the towel over to Sergio who cleans himself up quickly and slides off the table, 

“What are you gonna do about that?” he asks as he pulls his underwear back on, giving the prominent bulge in Gerard’s underwear a pointed look.

“it’s gonna go away eventually,” Gerard shrugs, but Sergio is shaking his head, already tugging off Gerard’s underwear and letting it pool around his ankles.

“You can’t go out there like this,” he says and drops to his knees, wraps his lips around Gerard’s throbbing length without any warning, before Gerard’s brain can even catch up and he’d take things slow, he’d take his time to properly explore him and tease him and taste him but they’re in a dressing room with a door that won’t lock and their teammates are waiting impatiently outside.

He steadies himself on Gerard’s thigh and breathes deep, sinking down on Gerard’s dick, not stopping until he hits the back of his throat, covering with his hand what his lips can’t reach. He jerks his base lightly, flicks his tongue against the throbbing vein on the underside of Gerard’s shaft.

“Fuck,” Gerard grunts weakly above him, his legs suddenly unsteady. One of his hands lands on Sergio’s neck, forcing him closer, pushing upwards to tangle in his hair, searching for any kind of purchase to hold on to, but Sergio pulls off immediately, looking up at Gerard with dark eyes, lips already glistening with precum.

“Don’t mess up my hair,” he says, hovering just above Gerard’s dick until his hands retreat from the back of his head.

“Fine,” Gerard chuckles a little shakily, his hand coming to rest on the edge of the table instead, his grip tightening on the rough wood when Sergio’s breath fans over his oversensitive flesh.

Sergio looks up, waiting until their eyes meet before he digs the tip of his tongue into his slit, reveling in the way Gerard’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. 

He rubs his mouth along the glistening head, allowing himself this one indulgence, tasting him properly, kissing down the pulsing vein, licking along his base before he nibbles back up, teeth scraping and tongue lapping before finally taking him into his hot mouth again, swallowing until Gerard is buried all the way down his throat.

They both moan at the same time, Gerard’s low and needy, Sergio’s muffled and broken and his throat is already raw from the way Gerard is fucking down into it, but he only loosens his jaw more and lets him slide deeper, bobs his head in time with Gerard’s thrust, plush lips tight around the pulsing flesh, tongue exploring hungrily.

 

 

“Sergio,” Gerard warns, his left hand pushing meekly at Sergio’s shoulder but Sergio ignores his protests, only pulling back enough to flatten his tongue over the head and it’s enough to push Gerard over the edge.

He lets Gerard’s cum trickle onto his tongue not pulling off before he’s gathered every single drop and he keeps the hot liquid in his mouth for a few fleeting moments, savoring the salty taste before he swallows quickly, licking the last drops of cum off his lips and out of the corner of his mouth. 

“We better get back out there before they come looking for us,” he smirks and pulls up Gerard’s underwear, gives him a soft pat on the ass before he saunters out the door. 

 

The rest of the photoshoot passes by quickly, uneventfully, neither of them willing to stay in the cold for any longer than strictly necessary. 

Sergio barely sees Gerard for the remainder of the session, only catching short glimpses of him on the other side of the little makeshift stage. Their eyes meet once or twice, only fleetingly, attention soon caught by the photographer again.

 

By the time he manages to escape chatty teammates and over eager photographers, the dressing room is mostly empty and Gerard nowhere to be seen and for one brief moment he wonders if Gerard is avoiding him on purpose but then something clatters to the floor as he unfolds his shirt.

It’s a room key card with a post-it stuck to it and Sergio smirks at he hastily scribbled note.

_Meet me in my room if you get bored tonight. G_

Sergio dresses quickly and shoves the card into his pockets. He has a feeling he’s definitely going to be very bored tonight. 

**Author's Note:**

> I live for Kudos and Comments. Don't be shy, i usually don't bite ;)


End file.
